


Love in the Time of Green-Eyed Monsters

by FireWithFire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Failwolf Friday, Jealousy, M/M, Makeup Sex, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireWithFire/pseuds/FireWithFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has his prom coming up, and he's going with someone special.<br/>Erica.<br/><i>Erica?!</i><br/>Derek is not going to like the new thing that's springing between Stiles and Erica.<br/>Is it his mind, or...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in the Time of Green-Eyed Monsters

“Stiiiiiles!”, Erica howled, entering Derek’s loft like it was her own.

 

“Is something on fire, siren?”, Derek growled from the kitchen.

 

“No--”

 

“Do _you_ want to be? Then shut the hell up. Stiles is not here.”

 

“Seriously? Where would he be, then?”

 

“His house?”

 

“But you just said he’s not here-- Oooh, _his_ house. Right. Fine, thanks.”

 

“Hey,” Derek said to her back as she tried to leave. “Why do you need him anyway? I can tell him later you were looking for him.”

 

“Come on, don’t get all protective, I’m not trying to eat him. I need his help to look for a dress for prom!”

 

“Prom?” Derek raised his eyebrow in disbelief. Erica, caring about prom?

 

“The ball? Senior year? Big deal? It’s like full moon for horny teenagers, wouldn’t expect you to understand. Anyway, I need his help. After all, he’s taking me, so I need something he’d like, I’ve got to go, bye!”, she said, actually closing the door behind her this time and leaving Derek stunned, with a slice of bread in his hand.

 

It took him a little while to absorb that amount of Erica-chatter. He was fluent in Stiles-ese, but Erica’s high pitch always threw him off.

 

Full moon for horny teenagers? Stiles is taking Erica? Oh, over Derek’s cold dead body he is. Why wouldn’t he mention this before? Sure, Derek knew what a prom was, but Erica’s plans were made very clear to him seconds ago.

 

The hell Stiles is going anywhere.

 

*

 

“Where have you been?”, Derek asked in this dead-cold voice he used when he tried to sound as emotionless as possible. Even though inside he was boiling up.

 

“Waiting for you my whole life? No? Not the answer you were looking for, wolfie?”, Stiles joked, doing his best to soothe him a little. “At the mall, looking for dresses.”

 

“Did you pick one for yourself?”

 

“Okay, are we joking or are we barking? I’ve lost track.”

 

“Nevermind.”

 

Derek was angry. Duh. Not because Stiles was taking Erica to the prom. Well, someone had to, since Isaac was taking Lydia and Scott was in the back-together phase with Allison. But Stiles could’ve mentioned that fact a bit earlier than two weeks before the party. In fact, he still hadn’t mentioned it. Erica had.

 

Derek turned back to the TV and returned to this dumb “fat-people-who-hate-themselves-for-being-fat” show. In fact, he didn’t even care about that whole prom fuss anymore. Not at all. Not even a tiny bit.

 

Sure, kids had been talking about prom for a while now. Lydia’s mouth couldn’t stay closed for fifteen seconds before she started yapping about her dress, hair and accessories. Derek found out more about designers than he cared to remember (who the hell was Karl Lagerfeld, who was this Christian Louboutin guy?). Even Scott got the prom fever and chattered all about how romantic was supposed the evening he planned for Allison. But neither Stiles not Erica had so much as squeaked a word about going to prom, not to mention going to it _together_.

 

Oh, Derek was angry. If he could, he’d buzz around like a pissed off bumblebee just so that everybody (Stiles) could _hear_ his anger.

 

*

 

“What do you think of this one?”

 

“Why is Derek so incredibly furious?”

 

“What? He is?”, Erica asked, turning around in a ridiculous dress that made her look like giant eclair. It was brown and glossy.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“How would I know. This one’s no good, let me change,” she said, going back to the dressing room. “I haven’t seen him much since yesterday. I was looking for you and went to his loft but you weren’t there.”

 

“Did he say something?”

 

“No, I told him we were going to shop for dresses for me, that’s it, I left.”

 

“This guy is seriously messed up.”

 

“I hope at least he’s good in bed.”

 

“Erica!”

 

“What? I do! Is he?”

 

“Not telling you.”

 

“Oh, you just did. How about this one?”, Erica asked, emerging from behind the velvet curtain in a stunning blood-red dress, with a huge cleavage and silver linings. It had a tight corset and ran all the way to the ground. And, it got wider below the knee. That’s all Stiles knew about dresses, and that’s quite a lot for a guy. Scott, for example, was lucky getting the color right.

 

“They say you reap what you sow. If you show up in this dress, some pants will be ripping. Not the same thing, but hey, close enough, right?”

 

“Oh, yeah. I’m going for that thing exactly.”

 

“How do you intent to pay for it? I probably costs a soul plus a kidney.”

 

“Less than you think, and I have Peter’s credit card.”

 

“Nice, so I may need a new shirt and a bow tie that matches that dress.”

 

*

 

Stiles came back late, loaded with bags. He was tired, after all, Erica decided she needed a necklace, too, and earrings, and a bracelet, and oh my God two shops turned out to be twenty, then two hundred. He couldn’t feel his legs at all. And they hurt. It made no sense, but made a lot to him at that point. Instead of legs, he had pain. But, it was a fruitful trip.

 

Derek wasn’t home yet. He should be, but he wasn’t, maybe Peter needed his help. Stiles unpacked his new stuff and took off his shirt and pants to try it all on.

 

The shirt was plain, white, a classic that could never be out of style. It fitted him perfectly (and it should, it took them one hell of a long time to find that one). He attached the cufflinks, shaped like wolf’s heads sideways, with a red gem for an eye on each one. Erica squealed so loud when she found them that they almost got thrown out of the store. Granted, the shape bore no resemblance whatsoever to a werewolf, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right? Finally, he tied the bow tie, made of red silk, and checked himself in the mirror.

 

“Damn, boy, you look fine, can I get your numbah? Whatcha doin’ later?”, he said to his reflection, making a seductive face.

 

The door slammed open and Derek walked in. He took one look at Stiles, standing in the middle of the room in his shirt and boxers, and walked right to the sofa and turned on the TV.

 

“Hey, we finished the shopping today! All I need is get my tux cleaned and we’re all set for the prom. Ooh, look what we found!”, he said, coming up to Derek and showing off the cufflinks. “Aren’t they cute? That way even though you can’t be there, I’ll be signed. Cute, huh?”

 

Derek grunted something in response, not even looking at Stiles.

 

Yes, the cufflinks were cute, Derek had to agree on that. He appreciated the sentiment. And Stiles looked great in his new clothes, sure. Still, Derek was way too angry at him for keeping all that crap from him to actually enjoy the moment.

 

“What’s up with you?”, Stiles asked, crossing his arms. “You’ve been grumpy since yesterday.”

 

“How’s Erica’s dress? Cleavage?”

 

“Huge, why?”

 

“Tight?”

 

“I’m surprised she can breathe. You going somewhere with that?”

 

“Yeah, I’m going to bed. Close the door behind you when you leave, okay?”

 

Oh, Stiles did. He closed them so hard he was sure the whole building heard it. No, the whole district should’ve heard that slam.

 

What the hell was wrong with that guy?! All of a sudden he stopped being nice and cute, and started being this angry schmuck that basically just threw Stiles out. Good thing Stiles left his jeep here couple days ago, that way he had a way of coming back home. Walking would take ages, plus, Derek hadn’t exactly bought a flat in the best neighborhood around. So, Stiles grabbed his stuff, threw it into the car and drove off.

 

Was Derek just being mean because he wanted to? That seemed like him, a lot, actually. Maybe the full moon was coming? Stiles checked his phone. No, next full moon wasn’t going to happen for the next three weeks, they’d just been through that phase. There was really no excuse whatsoever for his behaviour. Werebrat.

 

Stiles went to his room as quietly as he could, his dad was sleeping off his late shift. He just snuck out some food from the fridge and went to bed.

 

*

 

_To: Scottie_

_I’m back home. Wanna hang out tomorrow?_

 

_From: Scottie_

_Yeah. I’ll bring the pizzas._

 

*

 

That’s exactly what Stiles needed. Hanging out with a friend, no questions asked, no drama right around the corner. He felt relieved he didn’t have to deal with Derek’s crap for once. It’d been some time since he had the chance to kick Scott’s butt in video games.

 

“What’s up with you and Derek?”

 

Yeah, no questions asked, sure thing.

 

“Nothing.”

 

That was mostly true. Nothing was going on at that very moment. Derek was quiet, Stiles didn’t care for breaking the radio silence. He didn’t do anything.

 

“You don’t come back and hang out here unless there’s something not right,” Scott said when Stiles broke yet another of his combos.

 

“What are you, private investigator? Someone paying you to get information out of me? Stop blabbing and start paying attention, defeating you gets more and more sad.”

 

They didn’t mention the topic again. Didn’t have to. Scott already knew all he wanted. Something was up between those two. And Stiles knew Scott knew. But Stiles couldn’t figure out what to do now. He felt seriously hopeless and panicked. Sure, Derek had been an ass before, but never to the point of throwing him out.

 

*

 

The prom came, and not a word from Derek did.

 

“I haven’t heard from him in, like, two weeks,” Erica said, getting into Stiles’ car. “Did you bring the booze?”

 

“Yeah, full flask. You look amazing.”

 

“So do you, handsome. Now, let’s go, we have a punch to spike and a party to rock.”

 

When they came, Scott and Allison were already there. They waited a bit for Isaac and Lydia and they had all the flasks they needed. Guys had theirs attached to their belts, in their pants. Girls were much more creative. Allison used one if her knife-holding bands and had the flask on her right thigh. Her left leg was visible through a long cut in her dark blue dress - a perfect distraction. Lydia’s was hidden in the lining of her purse, she even had a little zipper installed for that. Erica tucked her flask in her cleavage.

 

This party was about to start. Mostly for Lydia, Allison and Stiles (who drunk like half of his flask before Lydia and Isaac even came), since werewolves couldn’t get drunk.

 

Whatever happened after the first couple of dances, and spiking all the punch bowls in the area, will probably forever remain a mystery in Stiles’ head. A big blob of laughter and blur. He remembered Scott dragging his keys from his hand, that’s for sure.

 

But why the hell did he wake up on Derek’s couch?

 

*

 

Stiles came in late in the night, about two or three. Derek was still watching TV, minding his own business, when the door swung open and Stiles lurched inside. Derek was far too surprised to react, so the teenager just started talking.

 

“You’re an ass!”, Stiles yelled. “I have no idea what came into you, what kind of werewolf flea bit your ass, but I know one thing - you can’t just throw me out like that with no explanation!”

 

“Shut the hell up! You’ll wake everyone in the building!”, Derek hissed, running to him and holding him down. The arm flailing and waving around was about to begin. “You’re drunk, and it’s late.”

 

“Yeah, I know that much! I sobered up a lot walking here from school! You can’t kick me out now, you have to talk to me!”, Stiles wailed. “What is wrong with you, dumbass?”

 

“You. Are. Drunk.”, Derek said, carefully punctuating every word to make sure the message got through.

 

“And you’re a jackass. Tomorrow I’ll be sober, and you won’t get better!”

 

“Go to sleep, kid. I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, you can sleep it off on the couch. Here, lie down. Good. Stop wiggling. I’ll get you water and aspirin for tomorrow.”

 

“Get me an explanation, you idiot,” Stiles groaned, trying to get comfortable on the couch. “What happened to you? Two weeks, not a single message? Not one word? To anyone?”

 

“Why do you care so much? You have Erica to console you now,” Derek snorted, trying to walk away, but Stiles caught his shirt in an iron grip and didn’t think of letting go, apparently.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“We’ll talk tomorrow, if you need to. Sleep. Goodnight.”

 

Derek walked upstairs, feeling like his heart had sunk. He finally put his feelings to words. He could’ve guessed before that he was just a part of a phase for Stiles, that right now, Erica’s breasts were all the kid could think about. And there was nothing to be surprised about, they were both hormonal as hell, it’s that age. He was just... disappointed that he had to find out about it in such a way, dragging information from Erica and then Stiles. He seriously thought he mattered a bit more than that.

 

*

 

Stiles woke up and his memories were hazy. The sun was already up, so he must’ve slept a while. He checked his phone to find six new messages.

 

_From: Scottie_

_Dude, where are you?_

 

_From: Scottie_

_I have your jacket._

 

_From: Lydia I The Great_

_Are you ok? Where have you gone?_

 

_From: Isaac the Puppy_

_Hey, we’re looking for you, call someone._

 

_From: Scottie_

_That’s not funny, where have you gone dude?_

 

_From: Scottie_

_I’ll seriously hurt you if you get yourself killed._

 

Stiles facepalmed. He didn’t remember getting any of those. Plus, he’d just woken up on Derek’s couch, and he could smell coffee. And he found aspirin on the table, and he washed the pills down with a glass of water, also standing on the table.

 

He sat up, slowly, not to trigger the helicopter that was now his head. Surprisingly enough, he felt fine. A bit chilly, since his pants, shirt and bow tie were thrown over the armchair nearby.

 

Stiles carefully stood up and ended up face to face with Derek, holding out a cup of hot coffee. His face was unreadable, even for Stiles.

 

“Thanks,” he said, taking the cup. He ruffled through his clothes to see if everything was fine. One thing was missing. “Have you seen my cufflinks?”

 

“Yeah,” Derek said, taking them out of his pocket. “I took them out to get a look. They’re really nice, Erica has nice taste.”

 

“She does. Did I-- Did I say something last night?”

 

“You said very little, Yelled quite a lot.”

 

“I’m sorry. I was seriously upset, I still am. I don’t remember a lot, but my question stands. What the hell bit you?”

 

“You forgot to call me a jackass this time.”

 

“Stop evading the topic!”

 

“Fine. I just don’t know why you even bothered to come here, Erica must’ve been disappointed.”

 

“What. Are you talking. About?”, Stiles asked, shocked.

 

“You and Erica, you two are a thing now, right?”

 

“Since when?!”

 

“Since you took her to the prom, have you thought of telling me, or were you planning to play for both teams for a while?”

 

“Check under the couch, your marbles may be lying around somewhere. What thing? Me and Erica? Are you nuts?”, Stiles exclaimed, slapping Derek’s arm. “And, and, I _did_ tell you, like two months ago. You probably forgot about it, like you usually do. I took Erica because she had nobody to go with, and neither did I! She split up with Boyd weeks ago, and I couldn’t have taken _you_ , obviously. Jesus, Derek, we’ve already had that talk two months ago, don’t do this to me...”

 

Derek sat quietly, he only felt his cheeks burning. Had he really forgotten about that?

 

“Wait,” Stiles said after a moment of silence. “So all that crap... Derek, you were jealous? Were you jealous of Erica?”, he said slowly, putting his cup down and taking the cup Derek was holding to put it beside it. “Did you, what, think I was about to leave you and run away with a skanky werewolf?”

 

“No, no, I didn’t,” Derek mumbled, blushing even more.

 

“Yes, you did. First of all, I need you to know that it hurts, man, it really does. It hurts that you would ever think I could leave you, that I don’t love you enough. It hurts as hell, I hope you understand that.”

 

“You-- Did you just say you love me?”, Derek said, looking all confused and flustered.

 

“Hell I do, dumbass!”

 

“You’ve never-- We’ve never-- I love you too, just don’t do that to me anymore,” Derek said, looking down.

 

“Do what? Tell you stuff you will forget? Fine, promise,” Stiles said, leaning to Derek, lifting his head with his hand and kissing him.

 

Derek kissed him back, passionately, furiously. He missed him, had missed him for the past two weeks, and he expressed all that longing, all that hunger in that kiss.

 

Stiles’ breath just went away from all that. He got pressed to the couch, lying on his back, before he even realised what was going on. He played along and ripped Derek’s shirt off him so he could touch and scratch that body all he wanted. And he did want so badly it hurt. It was his body to touch, his to scratch, his to kiss and bite. His lips to kiss. Derek’s hands ran all over his body, he felt them, and their touch left warm marks on his skin.

 

Derek ran off for a moment or two, got a bottle of lube from upstairs and came back, but that moment was enough for Stiles to get chilly. He clung to Derek’s warm skin as soon as he got the chance. He kissed Derek’s collarbone, he nibbled on Derek’s ear while alpha got him out of his underwear.

 

Derek kissed his chest, purring like a very happy cat. Stiles played with alpha’s hair, dragging his fingers in every direction he pleased.

 

“So,” Derek panted between kisses. “You and Erica-- You two-- Not a thing?”

 

Stiles cupped Derek’s face in his hands and pulled him up.

 

“Talk about Erica more, that’ll make me hotter, dude,” he said, smiling and softly brushing his lips against Derek’s.

 

“Right, sorry,” Derek whispered, returning the kiss and pushing his hands under Stiles’ back, sitting up and dragging him with him. He sat Stiles on his lap and returned to kiss, lick and nibble his chest and shoulders. His hands ran all over Stiles’ body, his back, his neck, his butt, his thighs. Stiles kept pushing his hips back and forth a little, brushing against Derek, brushing himself against Derek’s stomach. Every push made him groan a little, and Derek’s lips and tongue on his skin made him groan a lot.

 

Stiles lied down on his back, and Derek lied on his side, right next to him. Alpha put his hand on teenager’s chest and felt his heart beating. He stroked his stomach and looked the boy in the eyes. He admired the little flecks of gold he saw in them that he almost forgot about. And he kissed him, slowly, savouring the moment, the warmth of his lips against his own, their tongues touching lightly, then fighting for dominance, their breaths on each other’s cheek, the scent of Stiles’ skin was overwhelming, the soft moan in Stiles’ throat was driving him crazy. He flipped himself so that he was on top of Stiles again, and brushed their hips together. Stiles groaned, dragging his nails across alpha’s back.

 

Derek slid down, dragging his tongue across Stiles’ chest, leaving a wet, warm trail on his stomach and lower, and took him in his mouth. Stiles felt his hot breath on his abdomen, hot tongue licking him up and down, lips closing in on him. That was more than enough for Stiles, a sudden thrash of relief ran through his body, a groan escaped his throat as he rolled his hips up and clenched his fists on a blanket under him.

 

Derek crawled back up and kissed him again. Alpha’s lips were wet, red as blood. He kissed Stiles and could feel everything much more intense now, Stiles’ lips, their every move and every taste were so much more powerful. Stiles was still breathing heavily, sinking into Derek, who tasted a bit salty, who tasted like Stiles.

 

“That was fast,” Derek said softly, smiling.

 

“Sorry about that, I haven’t even touched myself once in two weeks.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, appreciate my sacrifice. I’ll be ready to go again soon, give me some time and let me just stare at you for a while.”

 

Derek sat up and pulled Stiles up so that he sat on the werewolf’s lap again. He could feel Derek was hard, pressing on his leg through his boxers. A moment later, they were gone, nothing separated their bodies, nothing stood between them anymore. Derek poured some lube on his fingers, rubbed it on Stiles, and in Stiles, rubbed some on himself, and let Stiles sit down on him, gently, supporting him, even though his brain was definitely lacking blood and his muscles started to refuse to work properly as Stiles lowered himself on him. He leaned back, lying on his back, and had Stiles ride him, all he wanted, all they both wanted. He enjoyed the view, Stiles biting his lip, Stiles’ hips moving up, going down, the moans and grunts he heard--

 

Derek tilted his head back and put his hands on Stiles’ hips, not to control him, not to pace him, just because he needed to touch him.

 

Stiles missed that, too. He missed having sex, he missed having sex with Derek. He moved up and down, up and down, getting him deeper and deeper, listening to Derek’s moans with every stronger thrust. Soon enough, alpha started pushing, catching the same rhythm, he sat up, pressing his mouth against Stiles’ chest and biting Stiles’ nipple, lightly at first, stronger, harder, gaining a groan of pleasure from him. Stiles was getting harder with every move, much faster than he expected, he was ready to go for another round. Derek sensed that, saw that, took him in his hand and started stroking, matching the pace of their hips. Again, Stiles didn’t need much, a kiss, Derek’s tongue in his mouth, and he came again, came over Derek’s stomach, over his own stomach. The mix of smells, the scent of Stiles’ skin, sweat, his lust, got Derek so intensely crazy he could barely breathe, he pressed his lips against Stiles’ again in a deep, hot kiss, hungry, possessive, like the kiss was meant to say Stiles’ was his and never going anywhere.

 

Derek came inside him, with a deep growl down in his chest, that grew to become a moan. A shiver ran down Derek’s spine. Alpha pressed his head on Stiles’ shoulder, panting, feeling Stiles’ breath on his ear as the teenager started kissing his cheek and licking his ear, hot tongue dragging on the delicate skin right behind it. They both lifted their heads and looked each other in the eye.

 

“Promise me you’ll never be jealous again. It’s only you, it’ll always be only you,” Stiles whispered, Derek could feel the words on his lips.

 

“Promise. You mean the world to me, you know that?”

 

“I do.”


End file.
